Somehow, the Elisabeta incident had probably been the least terrifying, or at least in the aftermath it had been. In the moment, however, it had been soul-shattering when the woman had snuck up behind them as Aizawa was handcuffing the last of three unconscious villains and grabbed his kid by the throat, the faint choking sound all that alerted Aizawa as he spun back around, only to see his kid in the grip of another villain. Long, dark brown hair cascaded over the vigilante's shoulders, but it was the fanged smile, wide and unhinged, reminding of a snake about to slacken its jaw to swallow its prey whole, that sent a thrill of protective fear down Aizawa's spine.
"Let him go," he growls, ready to flare his Quirk up, for all the good it will do. Kidilante had mentioned before that her Quirk was a mutant-transformative type, and thus would be largely unaffected by his Erasure. Still though, every little advantage or distraction would be worth it to keep his kid safe.
"Oh no hero, that isn't going to happen. Young, sweet blood is too good to waste. I'll drain him dry," she coos. Aizawa keeps his eyes trained on her, but he still notices how his kid's chest heaves, just once, (and she cackles at that, the sound ringing through the alley like a death knell but grating like nails on chalkboard) before his hand twitches towards his utility belt. And Aizawa won't allow his gaze to follow the movement, so he thinks. For fuck's sake, what's in- A throwing knife. His kid has a throwing knife. Multiple actually. Okay, good, that will help.
"If you let go of him, I can-" Please, let the kid understand his cue.
"Ah-ah, no bargaining darling. I'll take-" Aizawa taps his thigh twice "-whatever I want-!"
Suddenly, the kid is moving, dodging away to one side, bringing up his right hand behind his head, the glint of a knife flashing in the dim light. Aizawa is sending his capture scarf forward, intent on pulling his brat out of danger, but they underestimated the grip of the villainess. His kid is half-away, but she still has one sharp-nailed hand tight around his throat, flexing in pain from the knife buried in it, and another hand clasped on his shoulder. As he tried to escape, she had leant into his movement, face-first, dodging the capture scarf. Her fangs were buried deep in the brat's shoulder.
"Kid-!" But Aizawa can do nothing for a long second as Kidilante thrashes and twists for a second before slackening into the woman's hold. She looks up at the hero's shout, still drinking, golden eyes gleaming. Aizawa can practically feel the oiliness of her smirk and it is that knowledge that sends him rocketing forward, a kick aimed straight for her nose. Elisabeta drops the kid, a single drop of blood tracing from her lips, and the pro is instantaneously torn between catching his kid and pursuing her.
Then he's half-crouched, supporting the too-light weight of his brat.
"Kid, are you..." he trails off at the non-responsive lethargy of the vigilante. There's nothing indicating any kind of awareness. Even at his urgent, insistent tone or touch, the younger doesn't react at all, not even a twitch. And it is only now that Aizawa remembers part of the rumours surrounding Elisabeta, that she is less a vampire and more a vampire bat. Her saliva thus contained an anticoagulant element and apparently even a sort of sedative, though that was theorised to be a mutation. Which was probably why the kid was unresponsive. Ah, fuck. Still, it wasn't an overly serious wound. The kid would survive. Aizawa would just have to watch over him for the night. And that, he could easily do. First things first though, he bandaged over his brat's hoodie and then rang the police and his agency; the alley was still littered with three unconscious thugs after all.
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𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝐾𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒
FanfictionIzuku is a vigilante, and frankly it's the only good thing in his life. Or at the very least, it's brought about all of the good things. He loves nothing more than patrolling under the stars with Eraserhead at his side and Tsukauchi a phone call awa...
